


Snowfall

by Kendrene



Series: Of all the shades of love and other things [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6756979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Lexa are on vacation in Europe, where Clarke sees her first snow. When she insists to go play in it, shenanigans ensue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowfall

**Author's Note:**

> It's the first time I use Voice Over to type down a work- I went over it and did not find mistakes- if you do, please point them out. 
> 
> (Slowly) back to regular programming- to those following my other stories- sorry it is taking so long to update. Eyes are being an issue.
> 
> As usual kudos and comments are much appreciated!

“Clarke, come back to bed.”

I untangle an arm from the mess of blankets cocooning me, and beckon. I want to feel her body on mine again, her sex throb against mine. At the mere thought of her on my, heat shoots down my spine, into my loins and I grow wetter than I already was a few minutes ago, pussy tightening with desire. My hips cant upwards as I search for friction against the blanket. My engorged clit scrapes cloth and I feel my juices run down my things and onto the sheets.

“Clarke…” my voice is a growl now, and I prop myself up on an elbow, the blanket sliding down, freeing my breasts, nipples instantly hardening at the change in temperature. My arousal becomes the beat of a war drum in my chest and between my legs.

She glances back, but the sight of my readiness, which would usually be enough to lead her back into my arms, leaves her unmoved. She turns away again, hand pulling the curtains apart further, head tilted back, eyes trained outside. I kind of see her reflection in the glass panel, a darker version of her creamy self, and I know something has captured her interest.

My frustration grows, and one of my hands slides down my stomach of its own accord, to fondle my sex softly. I stare at her perfect back, her firm ass and my slick coats my fingers, the beating of my clit now painful.

I circle the tips of my fingers lazily, stroking the pulsing flesh and let out a low moan. It’s more for show than anything else right now, but if she doesn’t come to me soon I _will_ take care of it myself. And the next time she is grinding desperately under me, she will have to beg herself hoarse before I give her release.

When she does not turn I pout.

“You promised to draw me,” I know, it’s childish. At this point I do not care. At that she does face me, a small smirk playing on her lips, as she graces me with a view of her full breasts and shaved pussy. Her eyes are dancing with mischief and I know she was aware of where my hand was all along.

“Like one of my French girls?” the smirk turns into a grin, her voice dripping with foreplay, sending me into a spasm. My back arches and my free hand shoots out, grasping for a pillow that I throw in her direction. My vision blurred by desire, the aim is slightly off, the throw weak and she dodges nimbly with a laugh that makes my skin ripple with goosebumps.

She comes to the bed then, and my whole body tingles in anticipation, but she just sits next to me and takes the hand working me up to climax in hers, tugging me up into her arms.

“You gotta see this Lex,” despite my growing irritation, I detect a note of child-like wonder haloing her every word, that makes me curious. I let her pull me out of bed, but when I stand I tug her into me almost roughly, molding my body against her back, in such a way my wetness can’t be missed and I feel her shudder as she gasps.

My mouth goes to her earlobe, I lick it, then nibble it with my teeth softly and she squirms.

“Show me babe,” I croon huskily against her skin. I nudge her forward, and as we go to the window that takes up almost a whole side of the room and lets out onto a marble balcony, I make sure to press into her back every step of the way. She can feel my wetness smear itself across her ass.

“Look,” when we get to the heavily paned window, she stares outside with wonder, and I see Prague’s landscape has changed, the colors reduced to a palette of blacks and whites, objects swathed in snow. It is eerie yet beautiful, the artificial light refracted by the whiteness, brightens the night to an early dawn and where I can see a neon billboard far in the distance, the blanched roofs appear now blue, now blood red, now subdued green.

Fat, lazy snowflakes cascade from a sky so packed with clouds, single ones are all but indistinguishable. Clarke sighs contentedly, her warm breath misting the glass for an instant and cranes her head back to meet my eyes pleadingly. I know that look and I swear inwardly, knowing that whatever she wants, I will not be able to refuse.

“Can we go outside?” There it is. I don’t want to, I want to stay in bed and fuck her until she can take no more, I can go no longer and we collapse into a sweaty mess. The blue of her gaze is lit by such a sheer joy, the hesitant, hopeful smile so pure that I cannot deny her such a simple thing. I know, she has never seen snow before. She just moved in with me, and it’s been a dry winter on the East Coast so far.

I sigh and nod. I am weak for those eyes, for that smile.

She laughs delighted then bolts away, grabbing a fistful of clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. I follow slowly, feet dragging a bit at the thought I will have to go out in such weather. Snow is a pretty pain in the ass to me, a back-breaking, traffic-headache inducing maelstrom. With effort I try to put myself in her shoes.

By the time I gather enough layers of clothing, she is already waiting by the door, swathed in her heavy coat, a beanie snuggled on her head and a scarf around the lower half of her face, of which now only her eyes are visible.

I cannot help but laugh, and tug a lock of her hair playfully.

“Clarke, we are going to the park,” I chide gently, my smile loving, “not mounting an Arctic expedition.”

“I am from _Australia_ ,” she gives and adorable pout, “you want me to freeze to death?” I would thaw her with my tongue.

As we leave the room and ride the elevator down, she is practically bouncing with excitement. We get to the foyer and she sneaks a look at me, then darts outside, the concierge on the night shift giving her a round-eyed look.

I have no choice but to chase her outside, as she sprints and slips across the parking lot and disappears beyond the park’s gates. She is hidden from view for mere seconds, but apparently it is enough for her to assemble a snowball (and how on Earth did she _learn_ that?) and throw it at my back, right where the coat’s collar meets my scarf. Freezing snow slips inside, touching skin and crawling down my back, and I start to jerk around in a goofy dance, to try and get it out, even If I know it isn’t gonna happen.

Gasping with the sting of the icy stuff in my clothes, I make my own snowball and we engage in a battle without mercy or quarter, ending up powdered in white. Suddenly she charges at me and catching me off guard, clamps her arms around my waist and we tumble backwards, then sideways, rolling gently down a slope I had not noticed. My mouth fills with snow and her hair in the process, but I feel her rattling with unrestrained laughter against me, and I join in, infected by her happiness.

We come to rest, she laying on top of me, among a sparse copse of lanky trees. She presses her body on mine and I hiss slightly, as more snow finds its way into my garments. Her hips rock against me playfully, and my eyes widen slightly, as I feel a bump at the front of her pants.

“Clarke?” It comes out as a half croak.

She pulls the scarf away so I can see her wide grin. She circles her hips, inciting a sharp intake of breath from me, “do you think I did not know what you had in mind before we left?”

I try to push her back, feeling the strap-on press through her pants and mine into me, wanting it, but we are in a public place. And it’s _fucking_ cold. I tell her as much and her answer is a hungry kiss, tongue savagely licking mine, teeth bruising my lips with a bite. I moan and my traitorous hips jerk upwards. The seam of my jeans scrapes across my clit and heat shoots down my thighs. Suddenly I am not so cold anymore.

“Not here,” I try one last time, lacking conviction.

She nods, and the horny part of me falls.

“Not here,” she agrees and gets off me, pulling me up with her. She does not give me time to do much, and pushes me backwards roughly, until I hit the trunk of a tree and can go no further. Then she molds herself against me, and we may as well wear nothing by the way my body reacts.

She finds my mouth again, fierce and questing, and I respond in kind, sucking her tongue in nibbling at her lower lip, before she breaks the kiss and kisses along my jaw.

My head tilts back against the tree and I feel her hips shift again, canting into me, then one of her hands finds the buttons of my pants and she tugs them open. She isn’t wearing gloves anymore. When did that happen?

I dressed in such a desultory manner, I did not bother to put underwear on, thinking that she would get cold quickly and drag me back inside where I could have my way. I realize how wrong I was, when her fingers slide downward and dip inside my lips, teasing my clit.

“You are drenched,” she smiles against my cheek, her hot breath and the gentle movements of her hand making my legs shake. Then her fingers pinch roughly and if it wasn’t for her own body trapping mine, I’d crumble to the ground.

“Clarke…” I pant out, pleading for her to stop. Hoping she will not. My second wish is the one granted when her fingers are replaced with the tip of the strap-on. Her hands grab me by my hips and she rocks against me slowly, the toy rubbing up and down my soaked slit. Somehow my pants have dropped a bit lower, giving her full access. I am just taller enough that this is not an exercise in acrobatics. I don’t feel the biting cold anymore, I only feel her, us, the throbbing beat inside my pussy.

I moan and she angles herself just right, pushing me upwards as the silicone head rubs against my opening.

“Please.” I am not aware the word has left my mouth, until the head is past my entrance, Clarke rocking slowly, inch by inch going inside me. I am so drenched I take her easily, my pussy already halfway towards release from my lazy playing in bed.

Clarke takes full advantage of it, setting a punishing pace once she is sure it won’t hurt me, and I jerk my hips following her tempo. It doesn’t take long for me to be a quivering mess of need and she gives one last thrust that sends me tumbling over the edge, muscles clenching around the strap-on spasmodically. I try to bend my head forward, to muffle my screams, but she won’t have it, holding my head away with one hand as she stills inside me. Her name echoes in the quiet of the park, then when the sound fades she lets me sag against her, cradling me.

“That was too quick,” she is half playful, half regretful, “I will make you last longer next time.”

Next time it snows, I _will_ tie her up to the bed.

 

* * *

 

_My breath fogs the glass like hers did so long ago, as I regard the snow turn the features of my backyard into a white mass._

  _I close my eyes and wonder where she is now._

 


End file.
